


Inter Unum Somnium Et Aliud

by wonker8



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: AU, Angst, Dark, Gen, Grief, I don't know what I'm doing, Inception AU, Insanity, M/M, but this is really dark, you name it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-14
Updated: 2013-11-14
Packaged: 2018-01-01 11:24:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1044252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonker8/pseuds/wonker8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Starfleet...” Spock paused here. Leonard knew it wasn't for dramatic effect (because Vulcans apparently lacked the emotions for theatrics, unlike Jim), but damn it, the way the Hobgoblin was pausing damned well felt like it. “They have asked us to perform an inception.”</p><p>There was five whole seconds of silence before the entire meeting room exploded. Leonard flinched a little at the volume. Everyone had a reason why this wasn't going to work...</p><p>“Oh come on guys! We've taken on worse missions,” Jim pointed out to them, to which everyone replied “Like what?!” Their Captain faltered a little, realizing that indeed, they most definitely have <i>never</i> taken on worse missions (at least not as impossible as an inception). So he shook his head and tried again. “By which, what I mean is that there's-”</p><p>Everyone chimed in to say the infamous line together: “-no such thing as a no-win scenario.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inter Unum Somnium Et Aliud

**Author's Note:**

> It appears that I cannot write a happy McKirk story to save my life. The following contains a lot of mature themes that gets dark very fast. I don't know where it came from or why it demanded to exist, but here it is.
> 
> No, I'm not procrastinating from my NaNoWriMo. What are you talking about?
> 
> You will notice that this story is in two tenses: present and past. That's important. And no, it's not because I'm bad at grammar and couldn't keep a consistent style going. Actually, I'm not even sure this story makes any sense at all. What are we talking about again? My mind just went blank.

Leonard McCoy smiles down at the quietly snoring figure on the bed, moving to gently brush the hair. He marvels at the soft feel, the way it seems to linger on his fingers. The continuous sound of the heartbeat monitor beeping in the background relaxes Leonard in ways that diagnosing patients used to do a long time ago when he was still a student. His hand ghosts from the hair down to the cheeks, feeling the warmth of his friend and lover _who is alive_.

“Doctor, would you help me understand? Why are you doing this?” Spock asks. He's crossing his arms and leaning back against the shadowed part of the hospital room, head quirking to the side in curiosity.

“It's a human thing,” Leonard says softly, his hand moving from the cheek to the lips, quashing the urge to kiss them in front of Spock, who is giving him the Vulcan equivalent of a disapproval. “But I suppose you wouldn't understand that at all, would you, damned Hobgoblin? Just as you don't understand what privacy is.”

Spock tries again, this time taking a few steps towards Leonard. “I understand privacy, doctor. It is your actions that I do not. Please explain.” If he is annoyed by what Leonard is doing, he doesn't show it. He doesn't show anything at all as usual (after all, that's always been Jim's job. It's always Jim who pushed the Vulcan to show his emotions in public; a feat that not even Uhura has been able to accomplish).

The doctor laughs dryly. “A Vulcan wants me to explain to him what an emotion is. Never thought I'd see the day...” But his laugh sounds more like sobbing, like he can't quite believe what's going on, what he's doing. Like he can't quite remember how to breathe.

“Why do you torture yourself like this?”

Leonard looks back at Spock, giving him a smile that's filled with more sadness than it should. If Vulcans can feel, Spock thinks that he would have shuddered at the look. Shudder at the loss, the grief, and the hatred in the doctor's eyes. 

“It's a human thing.” Leonard says no more on the topic.

*

When PASSIV technology and dream sharing first became legal, millions lined up to become part of Starfleet Academy, a government-funded school meant to train future government agents for dream sharing. Of course, they only took the best of the best. Despite that, that year easily contained a class filled with talent beyond that of the best: a class of geniuses. That year's class was jokingly named 'The Enterprise Crew,' after an incident involving the USS Enterprise and demonic nightmares that were supposed to have been impossible to fight against (It had started off as a basic mission but had turned for the worst, and the crew made the best of it).

Their talents, therefore, were no joke.

McCoy found it slightly embarrassing, to be honest. There he had been, a middle-aged man amongst bright-eyed teens trying their luck. He felt so old standing amongst them, so damned tired (but he had no choice but to try his luck in Starfleet, because he lost the whole planet in the divorce and if you were lucky, you could travel through space in Starfleet). And of course he was picked over them. Even when younger, he had always been a sharpest doctor. And with age and experience, there was no way that any other doctor would have been chosen. It also helped that he had nothing left to lose. 

But Jim didn't see it that way. 

Jim never saw him as anything other than a grumpy old doctor who was mourning the worst divorce in the history (or so his lawyer had described it) and the loss of his beautiful daughter to the cruel woman he once called his wife. Jim never questioned him, never sneered at him, never mocked him for his age. He was the first to hold out his hand towards Leonard with a charming grin and declared, “I want you to be my doc, Bones.”

And how the hell was he supposed to say no to that? 

He took the hand and never looked back.

*

He moans softly into the kiss. It's been too long. Much too long. He tastes Jim in his mouth, a soft blend of that morning's coffee and apples that Jim loves to eat before briefings because it pisses off the Admirals. He pulls the younger man close to him, his tongue exploring the space that he's come to know so well. His hands travel, reacquainting themselves to the scars on Jim's back, the ripping muscles...

Jim pulls back slightly, grinning widely. “Starving, Leo? You sure you can take a full course meal? Maybe we should give you small doses at a time?” He teases by coming close, his breath ghosting Leonard's skin before pulling back again. 

“Don't you dare, James,” Leonard growls before capturing the other's lips.

This, he thinks to himself. This is bliss.

*

“What's this?” Leonard asked as he walked into the briefing room.

“New mission,” Jim answered with a grin. He threw Leonard's copy of the folders on the table space in front of the doctor. The others were already there with the documents, barely glancing at Leonard. It looked serious (as all of their missions tended to be), but Jim just happily took out his apple that he probably swiped from the cafeteria and bit in.

“Another one? We've just finished the last one,” Leonard groaned before sitting down. He opened the folder and flipped through it, carelessly skimming the documents, knowing that he'd be filled in with more details as the crew discussed what to do. Really, he didn't see the purpose of having him in these meetings sometimes. He was just a doctor, after all. He was not needed in the actual dream sharing, just as long as his potions he concocted for them did their job (and Jim didn't die because of his stupid allergies).

“Yeah, but we're the best. Federation wants their best at work.” It sounded like pride talking, but in actuality it was just stating the fact. The Enterprise crew wasn't known as the best for nothing. They were unparalleled in their skills, after all. “This one looks like trouble. Spock, if you will?”

Spock, the Vulcan, pointman. Leonard didn't know what was funnier, calling the famous alien a man or Jim ordering said alien around. A century ago, a Vulcan ship landed on Earth, proving once and for all aliens existed and that they came in peace (or at least these ones did). They helped NASA build ships to travel out into space to explore the unknown (The Vulcans were heavily invested in science for whatever reasons). 

But NASA's interest wasn't just in space. It was the Vulcan's ability to meld into others' minds. 'Logically' coming to the conclusion that humans could potentially achieve this, the Starfleet branch was established to try. The result was PASSIV and dream sharing. It was nowhere near perfect nor was it anything like the Vulcan's mind meld ability. But for the humans, it had been everything they had wanted: a way to immerse inside each other’s dreams. The Vulcans were disgusted with this machine. They pulled back their support and threatened to take the spaceship technology with them. 

That was when Spock became essential. A human woman by the name of Amanda Grayson and a Vulcan Ambassador, Sarek, fell 'in love' and reforged the bonds between the two rifting cultures. As signs of peace, Federation outlawed dream sharing and the Vulcans shared their knowledge. Eventually, things were calm enough to bring the dream sharing back as a government tool. And with Spock as part of the Enterprise Crew, the Vulcans had not spoken up against it again.

Yet here they were, the famous Vulcan whose mere existence forced the peace alliance between humans and Vulcans, taking orders from an average human with too confident a grin. Of course, Leonard supposed that calling Jim 'normal' might be pushing it. 

“Affirmative, Captain. As you're all aware, Admiral Marcus had discovered the spaceship _Botany Bay_ while on an excursion to locate dilithium crystals.”

After all, Jim was their leader and captain.

“Something about some 300 years old superhumans found asleep on the ship, right?” Sulu asked, glancing up from flipping through his documents. Everyone else nodded. There had been a great celebration at Starfleet when the ship had been found. “Exiled there after they tried to take over the world.”

“Correct, Mr. Sulu,” Spock said with a curt nod of his head. “Their leader, Khan Noonien Singh, destroyed a good part of Admiral Marcus's crew and threatened to rule over the ashes of the Federation after he was woken up. They were barely able to subdue him, but he is currently in deep sleep, awaiting verdict on his crime.”

Leonard frowned; this was starting to sound like a badly written 21st century science fiction novel (he only knew that because Jim loved old things, especially if they were in old book formats). He crossed his arms, already dreading what they were going to be doing. They were going to look into Khan's mind and find out his motives and plans, thus making the jury's job quite simple. They had done work like this before. What made no sense was that this was a simple and easy job. So why was the full staff here right now?

“Starfleet...” Spock paused here. Leonard knew it wasn't for dramatic effect (because Vulcans apparently lacked the emotions for theatrics, unlike Jim), but damn it, the way the Hobgoblin was pausing damned well felt like it. “They have asked us to perform an inception.”

There was five whole seconds of silence before the entire meeting room exploded. Leonard flinched a little at the volume. Everyone had a reason why this wasn't going to work. All had to voice their dissent. Even Spock looked a little ill at the thought of taking on this mission. Out of everyone, Jim Kirk was watching the explosion with a gleeful smile (his apple finished and the core thrown carelessly on the table with the files), looking very much like he's been given two cookies for the price of one. 

Oh. Of course. Leonard sighed mentally. Trust Jim to want to take on an impossible case. He had said too many times, “I don't believe in no-win scenarios” and to be entirely honest, Leonard sort of believed that maybe, if inception was considered to be impossible, then Jim would be the one person in the universe to be able to succeed in accomplishing it.

“Oh come on guys! We've taken on worse missions,” Jim pointed out to them, to which everyone replied “Like what?!” Their Captain faltered a little, realizing that indeed, they most definitely have _never_ taken on worse missions (at least not as impossible as an inception). So he shook his head and tried again. “By which, what I mean is that there's-”

Everyone chimed in to say the infamous line together: “-no such thing as a no-win scenario.” It left the Captain pouting like a child at having his line stolen from him.

“Jim, that's not the problem,” Uhura said, taking over the conversation with ease. “We know what we can and cannot do. And Inception... It's never been attempted before. It's... impossible.”

“Just like it was impossible for Scotty to return from Limbo. Just like it was impossible for the Vulcans and humans to work together again. Just like PASSIVs suddenly being legalized without pissing off hell loads of Vulcans. Just like all of us being gathered in the same class and given the same mission that brought us here and made us who we are today. I'm sure Spock can calculate the probability of _that_ happening, and I know for a fact that it's smaller than small. That's why I'm asking all of you to help me. We've fought against impossible odds before. We've made it through. That's why we're the Enterprise Crew.” 

Jim paused for a second to look at everyone in the eye, one by one. “I'm not going to ask you to stay to help me. Because yeah, it is impossible; it's probably beyond dangerous. But I need my crew. Are you with me or not?”

What do you say to something like that?

Leonard had to hand it to the guy, there was not a single thing in the world that Jim could not talk his way into (or out of, as the case may be). He couldn't help but to smile smugly as the rest of the crew settled down and looked at Jim, waiting their orders. Their Captain looked at them with pride. Then the moment was gone and the giddy child from before returned, rubbing his hand excitedly.

“Alright. Spock, get everything from the 1996 and any and all files you can find on Khan and Admiral Marcus. Bring me those, and we'll reform the ideas around that. Uhura, culture files. Find out everything from dialect, clothing, to what kind of shoes they wore and hair styles they had. Then coach the team in everything you find. Sulu, Chekov, I'm going to need the best mazes in the universe. The two of you design me levels one and two, respectfully. Spock and Uhura will lend you their expertises.”

“Vait a minute, tvo lewels?” asked Chekov, looking at Jim as if he was insane. “But Keptin, zhe probability of surwiwal-”

“No Chekov,” Jim said, shaking his head. “We're not going to two levels.”

It was Spock who put it together first. “Captain, surely you don't mean for us to go down to three?”

Jim smirked. “Give that boy the canned ham. Bingo. We're going down to three layers. Scotty, I need you to design the third layer. You'll have to work very closely with Uhura. I want this layer to be Khan's home, got it? Make it so.”

Scotty looked ready to faint, but he nodded nonetheless. “Aye, Cap'n,” he answered, his voice barely audible.

“And Cupcake-”

“Captain, _please_ ,” the embarrassed Chief Security groaned.

“Sorry, Hendorff. Force of habit. Anyways, I want you in charge of training everyone. I know Khan was around before the PASSIV, but I'm not taking any chances. Assume Khan's brain is heavily militarized. There's a big possibility that any of us, if not all of us, get sent to Limbo. I want you to train everyone to minimize the chances.”

“It shall be done.”

“Bones-”

“I know, I know, enough chemicals to knock you out for three levels of dreaming but still wake you up for the kick,” Leonard answered, rolling his eyes slightly. Of everyone, he thought that he got the easy end of the bargain. All he had to do was create the chemicals and administer them.

“Actually, Bones. I need you to come with me into the Dream.”

“What?”

“It's three levels, Bones. I don't know what's down there or if the chemicals will malfunction again.” The reference made everyone wince. In one of their missions, they discovered too late that Jim had an allergic reaction to the compounds (it hadn't been bad at first, but continuous usage to test and then finally taking it for the mission had pushed Jim's tolerance over the limit). It was one of the scariest nights Leonard had ever endured and he had sworn he would never let anything like that happen again.

“Look, I know how you feel about dream sharing. And that you would rather be dead than be in this dangerous situation. But...”

Jim looked Leonard straight in the eyes, bright blue eyes begging the doctor for help. “I need you.”

Did Leonard ever mention that Jim could talk his way into or out of anything? Because at that moment in time, there was no doubts in Leonard’s mind that he would go on that mission. All because Jim asked for it.

*

Leonard sits completely still, staring at the PASSIV with a contemplative look on his face. He knows what he wants. And he knows that he needs it bad. But he also understands the dangers of it. So he sits, wondering if he should go ahead with this. Wondering just what convinced him that this is a good idea. Wondering what he's doing with his life. Wondering since when he found the answers to the universe not at the bottom of a bottle, but with a PASSIV.

He drops his head in his hands, the first movement he's made in twenty minutes. He's a little distracted, but he doesn't miss the sound of approaching footsteps.

“Doctor McCoy,” Sulu begins and stops. He doesn't know what to say either. And Leonard doesn't blame him. He doesn't think he'd know either. Then finally, the Asian settles for, “We're going out drinking tonight. You should join us.”

Us meaning the team, of course. Leonard thinks it over, still not looking up at Sulu. “Drinking in real world or in dream?” he asks. He has to know. Because that's going to define everything.

“Real life.” There's an edge in Sulu's voice. A harsh tone that Leonard has never heard directed at him before. Well, who can blame him? He'd like to think that he would have done the same if he was in Sulu's shoes. But honestly, he'd have been harsher. Sulu's being much too nice.

Leonard doesn't answer, and it leaves the Asian clenching his fists and glaring at the doctor. “If Jim was here, he'd be disappointed in you,” Sulu grits out.

But the doctor is done listening. He doesn't answer or acknowledge Sulu's departure.

*  
“So what was the exciting news that you wanted to tell me about?” Jim asked after the briefing. 

The two of them were together, walking side by side towards a cafe. Leonard grinned at him proudly. “It's finally happened, Jim. My ex-wife is going to be six-feet under in three days.”

Jim paused in his steps and looked at his friend with comically wide eyes. “Did you... send a team to...?”

“What? No! Good God, man! What kind of man do you take me for?” Leonard cleared his throat and with a little less Southern accent, he tried again. “It was natural and sudden. Brain Aneurysm. She never had a chance to write a will. So Joanna's coming to me as her immediate blood relative.”

“That's great!” Jim's eyes lit up like the bright sky and Leonard found himself marveling at them. “Leo! Now you can finally have a proper family!”

Leonard took Jim's hand and allowed himself this split second of sap. “ _We_ can be a proper family.”

The blond blushed a little but he didn't pull away. “So I'm guessing this is your last job then.” There was a soft but sad smile on his face. “Can't say I'm going to be missing your negativity on a mission!” 

“Thank you, James.”

Jim kissed him in answer.

*

Uhura is in the bar with him. Leonard knows right away because she’s the only one who doesn’t belong. Out of every moving body, dancing and laughing, she’s the only one with her eyes trained straight on him, fury radiating off of her body in waves. Her shoulders are tense and her jaws are set tight, her legs apart in a powerful stance. Leonard considers running for a second before dismissing it. In dreams, she has the advantage.

She motions with a jerk of her head out of the bar. He takes a shot first before reluctantly following. As soon as they’re out of the bar, the silence of the cold night hits them like a brick, leaving Leonard sighing softly and acutely aware of how sober he is. He considers telling her that she looks beautiful when she’s angry but then changes his mind because that’s not going to stop her from going on a rant that’s building up. And he’s right, because as soon as they’re five steps away from the bar, she explodes.

“What are you _thinking_?” she demands as if she has any right at all to talk. “You have no right to do this. How can you? After everything, did you learn nothing?!” She continued on, accusing him of things that weren't quite true but with enough truth in it that Leonard couldn't quite refuse it.

“This isn't your problem,” he states instead. “It has nothing to do with you.”

Her eyes blaze with anger and her teeth snap shut with a loud clack. There is two seconds of pause as she takes deep breaths to calm down. “Are you fucking kidding me?” she asks, her eyes never moving away from Leonard, accusing. “We're a team, McCoy. We don't leave one of us behind.”

“You had no trouble leaving him.”

And that's the wrong thing to say because Leonard finds himself gasping awake from the dream, memory of Uhura shooting him burned into his mind's eyes.

*

As much as Leonard grouched about going into dreams and missions, he actually really loved the mission preparation everyone did. Because it was really then that you realized just how close everyone was. 

Spock and Uhura shared knowledge as they flipped through PADD after PADD of any and all information they could find on the time period. Chekov and Sulu sat next to one another as they drew pictures after pictures, trying to come up with a base maze that they could build whatever level on top of. Scotty frequented them from time to time, when he wasn’t glancing through the PADDs with Uhura. For about an hour or so, they took breaks to go see Hendorff to make sure that their physical body was at peak condition (to be honest, that wasn’t really necessary for a dream, but it always helped to have a basis of knowledge to base moves off of). Jim alternated from supervising them, bothering Leonard, to researching about Khan. All the while, Leonard worked on the chemical to get them there and back.

And throughout it all, they laughed and joked, mocking Jim’s love for impossible tasks, all the while researching to make sure that they wouldn’t fail. Because they couldn’t fail. They were the Enterprise crew.

They were never supposed to fail.

*

“Daddy…”

Leonard McCoy pauses at the sound of his daughter’s voice. His hands fall away from the PASSIV device and turns to face her. He can feel her eyes on him. How filthy he looks, how disgusting and how unkept. He never wanted her to see him like this, but it’s impossible to keep time within the confines of a dream. He has no idea how long it’s been. 

Or how short.

“Daddy, please stop.”

He sees out of the corner of his eyes, the shadows of the Enterprise group by the entrance way. They put her up to this. Smart of them. There isn’t much that Leonard wouldn’t do for Joanna. His hands begin to shake and he can feel his throat tighten. 

“Please,” Joanna whispers in the background. A honey sweet reminder of what he can still have.

But Jim isn’t here. Jim is… Leonard closes his eyes. “Alright,” he finds himself caving.

There isn’t much that Leonard wouldn’t do for her, after all.

*

“This is insane!” Sulu exclaimed as they came under fire once more. “How the hell can his mind be _this_ militarized?”

“Zhis is vhy he is superman, no?” Chekov asked at his side. He peeked over the protective cove to return fire, but quickly returned to Sulu’s side when the bullets rained down on them again. 

“Even still, the probability that he would be this ready for us is strikingly low. This is highly-”

“If you say illogical, I’m going to punch you in the face,” Leonard promised Spock, who barely glanced over at the doctor. 

Damn it all. Of course everything went wrong. Everything always went wrong. That was just how rotten their lucks were. 

Leonard McCoy closed his eyes. There was no way that even Jim Kirk could get them out of this mess. At least, so he had thought until Jim cleared his throat, getting everyone’s attention.

“Guys-” he began and was interrupted by another volley of bullets. “Guys,” he repeated, “we have to go to Limbo.”

Everyone looked at him like he was insane (which Leonard supposed was pretty much the case here), and Jim pushed on to explain himself. “That’s really the only way to get out of this mess. We die at this moment in time, we drop off to Limbo. But unlike others, we have a way out of Limbo.” He paused to stare at Scotty, expecting some kind of protests.

But none came. Everyone had a grim look on their faces, and they all knew what had to be done. Nodding slowly, they stood up and welcomed the bullets.

*

“You’re not listening, are you daddy?” Joanna asks softly as she looks down at her ice cream. “You want to go back.”

Leonard sighs, frustrated. Because how is he even supposed to begin to explain to her about what’s wrong? “I’m sorry, honey,” he starts. But she shakes her head, interrupting his apology that he’s been forming in his mind.

“I get it. There’s someone important on the other side of the PASSIV that you’re looking for.”

“Jo-”

“I know. We won’t be family until you find him, right?”

He gulps heavily but nods, hating himself for being so weak in front of his daughter. What kind of a father is he?

“But… What happens when you find him?”

Leonard pauses. What?

“Do we go to playing house again? Do we return to normal? Daddy, what will happen?”

It’s a question that he hasn’t expected. He feels something inside of him snap and he can feel vile creeping up his ever tightening throat. What will happen? Does he even know the answer to that question? 

“I…” He gulps slowly, pushing down the vile, pushing down the raging emotions that threaten to spill out of him. “I don’t know,” he says finally. “I have no idea what will happen. But I…

“I have to wait for him.”

The young child looks down at her ice cream, eyes a faraway look that such a young kid shouldn’t have. But she just nodded, understanding the situation far better than someone more experienced wouldn’t have been able to.

“Then I’ll wait for you, daddy,” the girl says softly. “So find him quickly, okay?”

*

The details of Limbo weren’t really all that clear to begin with. Leonard McCoy just didn’t remember much of it. What he did remember, however, was waking up. He remembered the sluggishness and the deep tiredness that followed after waking from dreaming. He remembered glancing around, the wonderment clear in his eyes, as he watched people open their eyes, one by one. He remembered the shouts, the exclamations of joy. 

Then his eyes landed on Jim’s still figure, and all thought of happiness flew out the window. He turned to others, making sure that he wasn’t imagining this. 

He wasn’t.

“Give him a minute,” Scotty suggested. “Maybe he just needs a moment.”

So Leonard sat and waited for Jim to wake up.

~*~

The sound of an apple crunch reverberates in the hospital room that’s usually only filled with the sound of the beeping of the machines. Nyota Uhura tenses like a coil ready to spring into action, but she never gets there. Not with Spock’s hand on her shoulder, silently telling her to let it go. To ignore the injustice happening right before her eyes. She watches as the others turn away, not even willing to make eye contact anymore. They’re all staring off into space, all refusing to speak up. It fuels her anger, and finally, she shakes off Spock’s hand and speaks up.

“This is insane!”

But the only answer to her shout is the munching of apple and the machine’s beeps. Uhura can’t understand why the others are remaining silent. Why aren’t they speaking up? Why aren’t they pointing out to the unfairness, the humiliation? What are they waiting for?

“Are we seriously just going to go along with this?” she demands, this time facing the rest of the group. “Aren’t any of you going to protest? He is our friend! We can’t just turn our backs on him because Starfleet ordered it!”

Again, no one dares to meet her eyes. They don’t move; just stare at whatever it is that they are staring at, shame-faced. It stirs confusion and fear inside of her. It makes her pause as she calls each of them by name, waiting for some kind of a reaction. There is none.

The apple crunches again, and Uhura finds herself slumping in defeat. There is nothing she can say that will rouse them. They will not back her, no matter what she said or did. She wasn’t convincing enough. Her words aren’t inspiring enough. She doesn’t grin right, or at the right time, and everything is lost again. Because she isn’t that person who can rally everyone to do the impossible. Because she isn’t that person that everyone’s come to rely on as their leader.

Because she isn’t Jim Kirk.

And as much as it frustrated her, she understands. Because if she was in their position, she would have done the same. She wouldn’t dare to stand up like this to oppose any order from Starfleet.

Not when it comes from…

The man pulls the apple away from his mouth long enough to speak up. “Don’t be so unfair to them, Uhura. This wasn’t their choice either.”

Uhura tenses but she can’t find any more words to say. It serves the man’s purpose, because he casually drops the unfinished apple to the ground as he stands. He walks over to the hospital bed, a look of amused satisfaction on his face. “And let’s be honest,” he continues. “None of us thought that this would happen.”

She closes her eyes. She can still see the moments play out before her mind’s eyes. The night before they were supposed to perform inception on Khan, Leonard McCoy went ahead to the hospital to perform one final checkup on the Augment before his daughter arrived. They had waved goodbyes, all telling each other to not bother with a good night’s rest, since they would be dreaming tomorrow. Then she remembered getting the call in the middle of the night and rushing to the hospital. She doesn’t know what has happened (she’s read the reports, but all of them contradict one another and none of it makes sense), but the sight she saw…

Leonard McCoy sat in the middle of Khan’s hospital room, screaming as he clutched his daughter’s bloody body…

No one knew why Joanna was there. No one could adequately explain why she was bleeding to death in a hospital. But everyone noticed that the criminal Khan was no longer in the room. Every accusing finger fell upon Leonard McCoy. And one man stood up, the easy grin on his face as he delivered what he promised to the organization that they worked for, no matter the cost.

“But let’s face it. Leo’s done for.”

Leo. He’s never called the doctor that before. It’s always been ‘Bones.’ Only in private or when he thought that no one else was nearby, he slipped into a loving "Leo." The fact that he is using "Leo" right now spoke volumes. Uhura gulps, because she understands. She doesn't want to, but she gets it. Because there is really only one thing left to do, isn't there?

Jim Kirk looks down at the man he’s loved for the past three years. The man that he’s called his best friend for the past five years. The man he's been prepared to start a family with. The man he's been willing to give everything up for. Something akin to regret and sorrow flashes on his face, but it’s gone within seconds and Uhura thinks (no, she fears) that she might have imagined it. Instead, Kirk turns to face the rest of the group, the easy grin glued to his face since discovering Leonard McCoy in that hospital room. The easy grin that holds a bit of an edge that hadn’t been there before. Just how close is he to breaking apart? For how long can he hold onto this facade of a careless man? Because the smile's slipping. Jim Kirk is slipping.

“Well, at least we’ve managed to complete our mission,” he tells them cheerfully. There's a bite of hysterical giggle at the end of his words. “Inception is within the realm of possibility. Not only can it plant ideas, it can also rewrite certain memories that don’t fit with the idea. We implanted the simple thought, 'My daughter isn't dead,' and the subject ate it up like candy. We had to improvise a little and change things here and there, but for the most part, it's been perfect. Well... perfect except the uselessness of the subject when it has succumbed to grief. Good God, you'd think that as a doctor, he'd be good at things like that. Oh well. Broken toys aren't needed in the Federation."

No one reciprocates the laughter, the glee. But Jim Kirk doesn’t care. He just walks off, heading towards the door with a loud yawn. The rest can only watch in horror, staring at the hospital bed, where Leonard McCoy laid still, hooked up to a PASSIV that they've been using to keep track of his status and machines that kept him alive. The machines beeps slowly, getting slower with each uneasy breath. 

Before Kirk leaves, he pauses at the doorway to look back at them. “Oh, and let Starfleet know that we need a new doctor.” 

Then he's gone, leaving a trail of wild laughter behind him that fills up the emptiness that everyone feels. 

The machine stops beeping.


End file.
